Thursday, December 20, 2007

The Little People

I drove out into the country as far as I could go
just needed to be alone let my mind flow
No more voices, no delegating, no orders
Just the sound of the winds breaking over the borders
A field with no gate, least not to the eye
With haystacks all over ‘neath a clear blue sky

What is the future? What’s in store for me?
Have I lost you forever? Are you thinking of me?
I leaned on a haystack and it began to slide
Then a hole appeared and down I did glide
I shouted aloud to anyone for help
As I landed in a heap on a floor of kelp

I got up in fear but there wasn’t a sound
It was lit by lanterns built into the ground
I followed the lanterns to a cast iron door
It opened to a fog; my fears grew more
I didn’t move but floated in
to see a little old man with a mischievous grin

Then six others came out from the walls
And sat with the old one in tiny stalls
Clothed in green from head to foot
With great white beards that were never cut
They just stared at me and I stared back
Wondering to myself if they were going to attack

Suddenly I realized we were surrounded by trees
I was no longer standing, I was on my knees
A high pitched voice and the smell of Poteen
“Do ya know why yar here? And what have ya seen?"
“No, I fell in a hole through a haystack up there”
“I was blinded , you see from the suns bright glare”

“Yar here today ‘cause an American Colleen
Requested it so, my dear Mickeleen
She loves you so much her prayers got to us
Now listen up well without any fuss
Write to her often you’ll be there in two years
Love her for life, wipe away all her tears

We will see that you get there, no more than that.

The Three Thirty Train

I was walking slowly
On a Street called Main
Thoughts on my mind
About the Three Thirty Train
Should I go down there?
Can’t make up my mind
Just walking slowly
Wondering what I might find

It is quite some time
Since you walked out on me
Now, you make contact
But I’ve forgotten you see
I’m still on Main Street
Walking slowly along
Remembering your face
And remembering our song

I must admit, I still feel lost
Why is that so?
As you left without a word
And I never did know
Why are you coming back?
On that Three Thirty Train?
The same one you left from
On that street called Main

I’m no longer a young man
I still live all alone
But you will be welcome
In the place I call home
I am now striding along
That street called Main
No longer afraid of
That Three Thirty Train

Michael Christopher Daly, Oct. 17th, 2007

The Bully

I tried to show that I wasn’t scared
Though my knees were ready to give in
I took a stance that indicated strength
With hands ready and aimed at his chin
But his eyes, were locked on Mine
And I just couldn’t stare him back
I knew the trouble I was in
When he roared to begin his attack

How could I have gotten into this mess?
Now he is beginning to hiss
Maybe I could save the day
If I hug him and give him a kiss
My fear made me attack first
And he wasn’t ready for that
As I landed a punch on his nose
And he screamed like a stepped on cat

He looked up at me from the ground
His hands covering his face
The blood seeped through his fingers
As the crowd circled our space
He staggered a little, while getting up
Then stood on the tips of his toes
Took away his hands from his bloody face
Showing everyone his broken nose

A ghostly moan could be heard by all
As he sat back down on the ground
He cried aloud to the departing crowd
Who had more sympathy for a passing hound?
He was all alone as he passed me by
Going home to a fatherless home
I caught up to him and we talked a while
I didn’t want him to be all alone
We met many times after that day
The title “Bully”, was no longer his name
We got on with our lives, in different styles
I recalled this from my Memory Lane

Michael Christopher Daly
Nov.25th, 2007